


The Conscious Vow

by fractionallyfoxtrot



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hogwarts!au, M/M, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/pseuds/fractionallyfoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of urban wizard warfare, Douglas hones in too sharply on the enemy and loses track of Martin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Conscious Vow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trill/gifts).



Douglas ran through the streets of London, heart pounding, lungs burning, wand clutched tightly in his hand.

The brisk night air was tinged with magic, Dark magic that pulsed with fear and panic. It was a feeling that was out of place in greater Muggle London, a feeling that had been growing steadily over the last few months, a feeling that Douglas tracked like a bloodhound.

He pushed through the Muggles crowding the pavement, all senses tuned in to the dangers they were blissfully unaware of. He roughly made his way through young couples on dates and groups of people on weekend outings without a care to his, presumably, rude and callous appearance. They weren’t the ones at war; they weren’t the ones who went about their daily lives constantly looking over their shoulders. They weren’t the ones who’d been injured at the hands and wands of Dark wizards. They weren’t the ones mourning the loss of friends every other night.

Douglas didn’t give a damn how he appeared to them.

He did, however, give a damn about the man running a few paces behind him.

After every step he took, racing through the congested arteries of the city, Douglas’ mind waited. It paused part of its thought process, unconsciously driving him forward while consciously listening for the lighter step of Martin’s stride and the hurried pant of his breath as he followed a few steps behind in Douglas’ wake. He could hear Martin making hasty apologies to the Muggles Douglas pushed aside, making him smile for a brief moment as only Martin could.

A flash of light and the distinct crack of a spell being cast caught Douglas’ attention from a side street.

“Martin! They’re over there!” he called without looking back.

Douglas sprinted ahead, digging deep within himself for the reserve of energy that, prior to the war, he hadn’t known he possessed. He held his wand ready as he turned the corner. Douglas’ chest heaved as he cast a spell, narrowly missing a Death Eater as they disappeared around a bend in the street. Douglas growled at his timing, frustrated with his inability to push himself any faster.

He gave chase, pursuing the Death Eater around the bend and down a series of darkening streets. Lights flashed in the alleyways around him—some red, some white, some green—but Douglas never took his eyes off the long, black cloak of his enemy, leading Douglas on as it whipped around corners, daring him to follow.

Douglas finally cornered the Death Eater, chasing them into a short alley surrounded by buildings several stories tall. He raised his wand, the curse poised on his lips, just as the Death Eater Disapparated, twisting into nothingness with a sharp crack and, Douglas swore, the faint sound of mocking laughter. Douglas cursed the empty alleyway, frustrated again by his timing, and slammed his fist against a nearby wall. He grit his teeth, anger and adrenaline pumping through his veins as he looked back over his shoulder, taking in his surroundings for the first time since the chase started.

He was alone.

Fear iced Douglas’ blood as he backtracked around the nearest corner.

No Martin.

He began to retrace his steps, as best as he could remember, his mind pounding him with questions as he moved through the quiet, dimly lit streets.

When had he lost him?

How long ago?

When had he stopped listening for the rhythmic weight of Martin’s footsteps?

Douglas turned another corner into another empty street. An uneasy silence hung in the air, devoid of any activity; no shouting, no movement, no hum of magic. Douglas forced certain thoughts out of his mind as he quickened his pace, refusing to think on worst case—but, unfortunately, probable—scenarios that made his chest constrict in pain.

“Martin?” he called, jogging through the side streets, holding his lit wand aloft. “Martin! _Martin!_ ”

Hands reached out from a passing alley, grabbing Douglas’ shirt and pulling him hastily into the darkness. Douglas caught a glimpse of Martin’s face, his brow furrowed deeply in annoyance, before Martin extinguished the light coming from Douglas’ wand.

“Bloody hell, Douglas!” he hissed. “Are you trying to get us killed?” Martin glanced out at the street before turning back to Douglas. “You can’t go around shouting like that! Every Death Eater in the city is going to hear you. And they’ll know we’re not one of them. I mean, have you ever heard of a Death Eater called Martin-”

Douglas silenced Martin’s hushed rant, taking the younger wizard’s mouth in a furor of relief.

He pressed Martin back against the wall, his hand—wand still tucked under his thumb—sliding back through Martin’s sweaty curls, holding Martin’s flustered lips to his. He waited until Martin relaxed, tension slipping away in Douglas’ embrace, before tilting his head and seeking more from the kiss. Martin raised his chin in answer, giving and matching Douglas’ life-affirming tone as his grip tightened on Douglas’ shirt, the garment and his wand twisting together in Martin’s hand.

Douglas pulled back from the heated touch, unable to stop himself from pressing softer, lighter kisses to Martin’s nose and forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning his head against Martin’s, staring into eyes that mirrored some of his previous panic.

“It’s, it’s all right,” Martin stuttered, his cheeks flushed from the kiss. A smile snuck onto his lips, shy and surprised; the same smile Douglas had been gifted with the very first time he kissed Martin. “Just… promise you’ll be more careful in the future, okay?”

Douglas neglected to answer, choosing instead to gather Martin in his arms and pull him in for another kiss, the touch making Douglas’ world feel whole as only Martin could.

He did promise to be more careful in the future. He promised to be aware of not only his footsteps but Martin’s. He promised to mind not only his heartbeat and breath but also Martin’s.

They would make it out of this war, both of them.

Douglas would ensure it.


End file.
